Three Chances
by MatlingsworthTriles
Summary: Miles is in a bad place and is having thoughts that aren't safe but tries to cover everything up. Is it too late to help him or can he be saved? **Triles, Matlingsworth friendship** **Rated M for sexual content**


** A/N: ****This is something I wrote before 14A ****started and never published until now. I based some scenes off the promo and the rest of them I just created. Enjoy and don't forget to review!**

It happened three times. The first time, Maya was with Miles when it happened. Miles had come to school looking like crap one day in early April during tenth grade, just after spring break. He had dark circles under his eyes, his clothes were wrinkled, he had a bruise forming on his forehead which was noticeable even considering how he brushed his bangs over it, and he had a thin, red cut at the end of his wrist. Maya later figured out that the bruise was due to his father and the cut was due to himself.

He had randomly walked out of Chem. Lab and disappeared. Maya thought this was only a little out of the ordinary, because he cut class often. Then, she realized how stupid and naïve that was. She realized that he could actually be in trouble, and ran out of the classroom, running as fast as she could towards the front of the school, not even asking for a hall pass.

She looked around, confused to where he had gone. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she saw something moving on the balcony that looked like a silhouette of a tall, brunet boy that had just gone missing from class. She turned around to face the balcony, and there, standing in front of the railing instead of behind it, where he should have been, was Miles Hollingsworth III. "Miles?" she asked him, confused. Miles looked up from the ground for a second and looked at Maya with a helpless expression, and then he stared back at the ground again.

Maya knew this wasn't good. He wasn't thinking right. She had to get him to safety. Could she quickly run up to the balcony and get him to safety? Could she convince him not to? As Maya contemplated what to do, Miles took a step closer to the edge and was physically and emotionally preparing himself for the jump he knew he was going to make. Thoughts swarmed around in his head uncontrollably. _Dad beats you because you deserve it. You're worthless, and hopeless. You're a horrible boyfriend to Tristan. You're terrible to Frankie and Hunter. You don't accept any help, even though you're mental. You're crazy. You don't deserve to live. You're truly all alone, and nobody cares about you. Nobody._

Maya looked back up at Miles, and he had his arms extended behind him, his hands gripping the rail for support. He leaned forward, and Maya's heart pounded. He let go of the rail and jumped. Time seemed to slow for both of them. Maya was still in shock and too surprised to do anything until Miles landed on the ground, his ankle twisted in a weird position. He gritted his teeth in pain until tears formed in his eyes. He turned his head towards Maya. "I'm going to get help," Maya told him. Before she left, Miles, in too much pain to speak, said in an almost inaudible tone, "Don't tell anyone what really happened." He smiled sadly at her, and than his face collapsed in on itself and he started crying, his face curled up in sadness and hurt, tears streaming down his sobbing face. Maya didn't want to not tell anyone that Miles had jumped, but she felt like she needed to protect the vulnerable boy. So, she did. When he returned from the emergency room with a new injury, Miles told everyone that he had drank too much before school that day, he had dropped a wine bottle and a piece of glass had cut his wrist, and that he had bad judgment when he was drunk and had fallen off the balcony and broken his ankle. Everyone believed him. Tristan, Winston, Frankie, Hunter, because it sounded just like the Miles they all knew. It explained his broken ankle and the cut on his wrist as well. Maya just hoped that something like that would never happen again. And it wouldn't. For a long time, anyway.

The second time, it was June, near the end of their sophomore year. Miles was with Tristan in his car with the radio blasting. They were just leaving their lunch date. When Miles stopped abruptly at a red light, Tristan flew to the left a bit and his hand automatically latched onto Miles' knee. Miles smirked, and, using his free hand, pushed Tristan's hand further up his leg onto his thigh, looking the blond boy straight in the eye as he did so. Tristan knew that they both wanted to go further. He also knew how easily Miles could get horny, so he suggested, "Maybe we should park the car." Miles responded with, "You know, Tris, that is a great idea," in a seductive tone.

The light turned green and Miles took this opportunity to park in the parking lot of Degrassi. He swerved and quickly parked in a parking space. Almost immediately after parking the car, Miles swiftly pounced on Tristan and started kissing him. Miles' hands instinctively found Tristan's hips and he held on to them tightly. Tristan started to tug on the ends of the brunet boy's dark locks, knowing it turned him on. Miles groaned softly, a deep, low noise coming from the back of his throat as he pushed Tristan harder against the side of the car and kissed him more roughly.

Miles hungrily crushed his lips against Tristan's, needing more. His lips attached to a spot somewhere between the blond boy's jaw and collarbone. He kissed it softly at first, making Tristan giggle. He then latched his lips onto it and started to slowly suck on the spot, his head occasionally dipping down to bite it. Tristan's breath caught in his throat, shocked. Miles smirked a little at this as he started leaving bite marks all over his neck. Tristan didn't really know why he was surprised, considering Miles' boldness all of the time.

Tristan decided to try something new and softly shoved Miles against the car seat, sitting on his lap, his legs connected with Miles' hips, straddling him. Miles was mildly surprised and hesitated for a moment's notice, his mouth falling slightly open. Tristan slid his hand up the brunet's leg and Miles became aroused. He then pushed his body against the shocked boy's and left a trail of kisses down his neck. He placed his arms on the back of his neck and tried sucking on it. Miles then grinned with a knowing smile as Tristan unsuccessfully tried to weaken him, knowing what he was trying to do. Tristan then found a spot on the right side of his jaw that was especially delicate, even touching it would drive him crazy. Miles quickly stopped grinning smugly, his mouth agape. He started to suck on it, and Miles started groaning, his hands roaming Tristan's body, wanting to go further. Tristan quickly undid all of the buttons on Miles' shirt and Miles removed it, starting to unbuckle his belt as well. Tristan laughed softly, and told him, "Wait until we get outside." Miles nodded, and stepped out of the car.

He walked over to the side of the passenger seat side and opened the door for his boyfriend. Tristan blushed a little as he stepped out of the luxury car. "Wow, I have Miles Hollingsworth as my personal chauffeur!" Miles chuckled a little, and extended his hand towards Tristan's. They intertwined their fingers and walked in the direction of the greenhouse together. Since it was secluded due to repairs, it would be perfect. Almost immediately after entering the greenhouse, Miles put his hands on his boyfriend's hips, leaned in and started passionately making out with him. Tristan smiled, and put his hands around Miles' neck. Miles started pushing him towards the wall of the greenhouse.

Miles' tongue swept across the blond boy's lower lip, asking for permission. Tristan's mouth opened a little more, granting access. Miles' tongue glided against Tristan's in a battle for dominance. Tristan eventually gave up and let Miles take control. As Tristan's hand brushed against the rich boy's groin, Miles groaned loudly and started thrusting and grinding his lower half into his boyfriend. Tristan started to do the same, their bodies moving in rhythm. Miles slid his hand up Tristan's clothed chest, turning them both on even more.

Then, Miles lightly pushed Tristan down to his knees. Tristan looked up at Miles' face and asked, "Are you sure you're ready for this?" "Of course I am, Tris. I want to," replied Miles. Tristan smiled and started to unbuckle the brunet's belt. He pulled down Miles' designer jeans and his boxers to reveal his cock, which Tristan didn't say out loud, but it was pretty big. He didn't know if it was from his erection or it was normally that large. Miles caught Tristan's eye and smirked. Tristan slowly started to take him in, starting with the tip of his cock. Miles reached his hand down and gently pulled the ends of his boyfriend's blond hair, urging him on. Tristan took more of him in, Miles groaning loudly. Miles tugged on Tristan's hair again, his way of telling him more. Tristan then took as much of his cock as he could into his mouth, with a satisfied Miles groaning even more frequently. "Fuck, Tristan, that feels so good." Tristan started sucking faster and faster, and the groans from Miles increased. "Tristan?" Miles asked his boyfriend. "I'm really close!" Tristan got excited, turned on and a little nervous at this. All Tristan had to do was go a little faster and his boyfriend was ready to finish.

Miles reached his climax, getting cum all over his jeans, which were now at his ankles. "Weren't those designer?" Tristan asked him. Miles shot him a confused look, and then looked down at his feet, noticing that his jeans were covered in his own semen. He saw his cock out of the corner of his eye and smirked, noticing how big it was even after his erection was gone.

"Oh, it's fine," he replied nonchalantly. "It was worth it." He grinned, earning a little smile from Tristan in return. Miles realized that he still wanted more. He wanted to give his boyfriend a blowjob. Miles buttoned his jeans, redid his belt and then, in one swift movement, dropped to his knees right in front of Tristan's cock, his face inches from it.

Tristan, not expecting the turn of events, considering how Miles had been given many blow jobs but had never given one in his life, said to the rich boy, "Wow, Miles, you sure move fast!" Miles shrugged his shoulders, and then said, "Anything for you." Tristan still looked a bit unsure. "It's not too much for you?" Miles looked down, and then shook his head. "Oh, darling. You don't think I can handle this, do you?" he said to the blond as he looked up and smirked at him. He got up off the ground, pushed Tristan against the side of the greenhouse, pressed his body against his, grabbed Tristan by the collar of his shirt to pull their chests closer, and attacked his neck, placing kisses all over it. He practically tore off Tristan's shirt and threw it in a heap behind them. Then, he latched his lips onto his boyfriend's collarbone, sucking it until Tristan started to groan.

He moved to Tristan's jaw line as Tristan instinctively turned his head to give him better access. He sucked on it, and then started biting it all over and leaving bite marks. Tristan's breath hitched as Miles bit down on his sensitive skin. Then, he left a little space in between them by placing both of his hands on Tristan's chest, and leaned in to give his boyfriend one final kiss, purposely making it very slow and torturing. Miles now looked at Tristan with a triumphant smirk. "Do you still think I'm not ready?" Tristan shook his head, breathless, and Miles got back down onto the ground.

Although Miles appeared eager (well, he was) and fearless about what he was going to do, Miles was actually very nervous, he was just talented at not showing it, a trait he and his boyfriend did not share. Tristan being a dramatic person and open with his feelings and Miles being more nonchalant and laid back about things, not one to show how he was really feeling with others, except on occasion. He would only really share his real feelings when he was drunk or when things were really bad and he was emotionally fragile.

Miles must have stared at his lover for a bit too long, because he asked the brunet if he was nervous. "No, I'm just really turned on," was his reply, although it was true, but that was just half of the truth. He was really turned on by the idea of sucking his boyfriend's cock, but also, he was nervous that because of his inexperience, which was something that had never happened to him before, he would somehow do something wrong. "I'm just so thirsty for you, Tris," he said to Tristan, smirking.

He undid Tristan's belt, and then pulled down his pants and boxers. Just the sight of his boyfriend wearing no clothes alone was giving him an erection. Unsure of what to do first, he ran his hand lightly on the underside of Tristan's cock, stroking it. He started to suck it, and Tristan immediately started to groan. He held onto it with his hand so he could fit more of it in his mouth. Tristan started thrusting his cock into Miles' mouth, and Miles fit as much of it as he could into his mouth. Tristan said a barely audible. "Faster," and Miles made sure to go as fast as he could, Tristan about to reach his climax. When Tristan's cock started to leak cum and get all over his own length, Miles said, "Don't worry, I'll clean that up for you." He started to kitten lick at his cock, lapping all of it up. He wiped off the excess semen with his hand, and then licked it off of his fingers. Tristan had to admit, it was a pretty great sight. Miles on his knees, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers, sexily licking his cum off his fingers. They both started putting their clothes back on and started to leave.

"Hey, Tris, what did you think of me when we first met?" Miles asked Tristan as they walked back to the car, a lazy grin on Miles' face as they walked, hand in hand. "To be honest?" Tristan asked him. "I thought you were a very tall, very attractive douche that was really pretentious and stuck up and had a silver spoon up his ass." Miles chuckled softly, and replied, "Sounds pretty accurate."

They got into Miles' Mustang and Miles put the keys in the ignition and started to drive. "Alright, I know it sounds cheesy and cliché. But I have butterflies right now," Miles said to Tristan, a romantic look in his eyes. "Don't worry, Miles. I get butterflies every time I see you." Tristan replied, and as they both leaned in, Miles' phone went off. Tristan sighed, and said, "You should probably get that." Miles rolled his eyes, but picked up his phone with one hand and steered with the other.

"Hello? I-" Miles was immediately interrupted by talking on the other end. "Miles." It was his dad. Miles was relieved that it wasn't on speakerphone so Tristan couldn't hear anything his dad was saying. "What is it now?" Miles asked agitatedly, knowing that his dad would never call him unless he had done something wrong. "You were SUPPOSED to go to the press conference today," his dad told him. Miles sighed, remembering. "It started at one. It's now four thirty. Your mother and siblings are disappointed, but that's nothing out of the ordinary. You are a disappointment to everyone in this family. Dammit, Miles! Do you have to screw everything up? You're ruining my chances of being elected, you goddamn worthless brat! When you come home, I'm going to beat the crap out of you!" Miles froze, and felt emotion rushing through him. He clenched his chin to keep form crying, because he knew that was the worst possible option right now: to let his dad know he had gotten to him. He decided to stay silent.

All Tristan could hear was what sounded like muffled yelling and insults coming from the other end. He shot Miles a confused look, but he wouldn't make eye contact. Miles stared blankly down at the ground, and looked like he was masking something, but Tristan wasn't sure what.

When Miles finally couldn't take it anymore, he hung up his phone and hurled it to the ground. Miles' green eyes glinted with annoyance, darkening and almost appearing brown like they always did when Miles experienced extreme anger or sadness.

"Miles, what was that?" Tristan asked, trying to search his eyes for any emotion at all, but Miles kept his eyes strictly on the road until he could get rid of the emotion in them. Early in their relationship, Tristan had thought that when Miles said he was fine, he actually was, and believed him. But by now, he knew how Miles worked. He knew what he did when he tried to hide emotion.

Miles looked Tristan straight in the eye, the rich boy's eyes seemingly dead and empty of all emotion, and smiled with no happiness whatsoever, a small smile that didn't reach his eyes, just a turn of the lips and nothing more. Tristan could spot a fake smile from Miles any day. When it was real, he would blink a lot, and sometimes he would even close his eyes for a little. Right now, his eyes were as still as a concrete wall and Tristan would be damned if he even did so much as blinked.

Another thing was Miles would have these little lines around the outside of his eyes that Tristan had always found attractive. But right now, there were none present. The last way Tristan knew was his boyfriend's mouth was closed. When he grinned, smiled or laughed, his mouth was always open. The only times his mouth was closed was when he smirked, which he did way too much around him because he knew that Tristan found it sexy.

Tristan noticed a single tear falling down Miles' face. "Miles, seriously, what's wrong? You can tell me, I'm here for you." Miles weakly shook his head, his lips trembling, threatening to give way. Miles came to realization that he didn't want to live anymore. This wasn't the first time he'd had these thoughts. There was that time with the balcony…He didn't allow himself to think about that, fearing that if he did, he would remember that there was something wrong with him and he might feel like doing something of those sorts again. And he was, very strongly.

Miles did a sharp turn that Tristan wasn't sure was legal and drove full speed off the highway. "Miles, what are you doing?" Tristan asked the brunet frantically, but got no response. "Miles!" He heard a sob come from his boyfriend. "This isn't safe! You could kill yourself!" And then Tristan realized, when Miles gave him a sad smile, that's what he wanted to do. Right before Miles was about to drive the car down a ditch, Tristan slammed down the brake and the car stopped.

Miles broke down crying, not being able to hold it in anymore. The emotions were suddenly too strong, and everything started to get to him. He reached blindly for Tristan, not being able to see anything clearly though all of his tears. He practically clung to the blond boy, not even able to compose himself because he was such a mess.

Tristan was silent for a moment, and then said softly, "It was your dad, wasn't it? On the phone." Miles nodded, and took a breath. "How long has he been saying stuff like that to you?" Tristan asked him, now concerned. "A long time," Miles said sadly. "Look, Miles, I know that it's really hard, but you have to try not to let him get to you. You're better than that, really." Tristan took Miles' hand and held onto it tightly.

After a few minutes when Miles was okay enough to speak, he said, "You're right, Tris. I'm not going to let my father get to me. This was just a one-time thing. I promise I'll never do it again."

That one sentence. _"I promise I'll never do it again." _Famous last words. It was a lie, and they would both soon know it.

The third and final time was a chilly night in December, junior year. Tristan had been over at the Hollingsworth's when Miles' father asked Miles if he could please speak to him upstairs. Miles abruptly got up from the sofa and followed his father up the stairs. It was 7:00 when he left. It was 7:25 when Tristan started to become extremely worried. It was 7:37 when Miles came walking hurriedly down the stairs and slamming the front door behind him.

Tristan followed Miles outside to find him sitting on the porch steps, smoking a blunt, the ends of his red jacket fluttering and swaying in the wind. "Did you have another fight?" Tristan asked his boyfriend, sitting next to him. Miles didn't respond, but instead averted his eyes.

"What was it about? Something with the campaign, or making him look bad? Was it about you being bisexual?" Miles dropped his blunt onto the ground. He took out another one and reached for his silver lighter, unsuccessfully trying to light it, his hands shaking frantically, almost desperate. Tristan reached over and lit it for him. Miles took a long drag before saying, "I tried, Tris. I tried to not let him get to me like you said, but it didn't work. I can't put up with this any longer. I don't want to live like this anymore."

At first Tristan wondered if he'd really meant it, and then remembered that time in his car. He was really going to do it. As soon as he realized that the brunet had meant what he said, Miles was already stumbling into the road. Tristan didn't have to ask, he knew that as well as smoking weed, Miles had been drinking. He thought he had smelled the strong scent of alcohol when he first came outside. Drinking was horrible for depression and suicidal thoughts, it just worsened everything.

"Miles, you can't be serious, you're not really going to-" he was cut off when Miles loudly called out over him, "Let's just face facts. Myself and everybody else would be far better off if I was gone. I'm doing everyone a favor, including you." Then, he stumbled some more until he was in the middle of the road. Tristan could see the headlights of cars as they drove past, oblivious to the fact that there was a drunk, depressed and slightly high kid in the road due to the darkness. Miles, as a result of this, seemed to reconsider, and when he did, his usually composed face curled up in horror when he realized what he was about to do and what was going to happen to him. A scared, panicked expression crossed his face and he froze in shock like a deer in headlights, unsure of where or when to move.

Tristan had instantly started weaving his way through traffic. "Don't worry, Miles, I'll get you." Miles frantically whipped his head in Tristan's direction, forgetting all of the cars for a moment. "Tristan, help me," he pleaded, sounding very young, much younger than he was. As soon as Miles was in reach, Tristan grabbed the slightly taller boy's arm and quickly pulled him to safety.

As soon as Miles got away from the blaring headlights and the loud honking of cars, he let out a huge breath and his body became less tense and rigid. He practically fell into Tristan's arms, his body uncontrollably shaking from sobbing so much. When Tristan bent over to look at him, his eyes were shut, his hands subconsciously shaking, his mouth turned downward and his lips slightly parted to let out another sob, the area below his eyes wet with tears, which were streaming down his face. Tristan had never seen him look so weak and vulnerable.

"Tristan…" Miles started, but Tristan placed a finger to Miles' mouth before he could speak. "You don't have to talk right now, Miles," Tristan said softly to his boyfriend as he nodded, leaning his head on Tristan's chest. They sat like that for what had to be at least 10 minutes before Miles felt calm enough to speak.

"Tristan, I'm so sorry. I mean it this time. I'm sorry, I'm sorry that I did it again. It's just that things have gotten so bad recently, and I truly believed that there was no other way out of it," Miles finished, his hands gripping the edge of the porch so hard that the tips of his already pale, long, slender fingers were turning white.

"I believe you, I do. I want to help you, Miles. I can help you," Tristan told him. "I know that now, and I'm sorry that I let you down again, Tris," Miles said, his voice barely above a whisper as a single tear rolled down his cheek. Tristan kissed it away as he said, "You didn't let me down, you just worried me. Things will level out, I promise. Maybe not anytime soon. I know it seems like things won't get better, but we can work to make them to." Miles glanced at the blond boy, a hopeful expression spreading across his face. "It will be alright, Miles." Tristan and Miles laced their hands together and intertwined their fingers as their legs tangled together. Miles leaned his head on Tristan's shoulder, both boys gazing up at the nighttime sky dusted with clusters of stars, glinting hopefully as a symbol of what would come.


End file.
